Chapter 42 Through The Chaos

Chapter 42 Through The Chaos

Marilyn's POV

Lucian’s arms were firm and strong around my waist as he held me steady on the stairs.

I could feel the heat of his body, the strength in his grip, and for a moment I almost forgot how terrified I'd been.

Slowly, my legs stopped trembling and I eventually found my balance.

I finally was able to stand on my iwn without wobbling or tipping back.

I blinked sharply, catching my breath, while water still dripped from my clothes.

The way my clothes had clung to my skin made me feel embarrassed for a few minutes. I felt completely exposed, and it hurt to feel this vulnerable.

But then, thinking about it again… I realized that feeling naked in front of someone like Lucian wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, I’ve seen him completely stripped too.

Yesterday had been a mistake, but now… there was something strangely fulfilling about the whole scenario, from the water accidentally spilling into his room to me seeing all of him.

The memory sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of nerves and something I couldn’t quite name.

Even though it was awkward and unexpected, a part of me felt alive—more aware, more daring. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want it to end there.

After a while, Lucian eventually stepped back slightly, his hands still raised as if afraid I might trip and try to fall again.

Though, his eyes were wide, brows knitted, and his chest kept rising fast from exertion, as if he couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to hold me in the chest place.

His lips parted as he shook his head in disbelief. “What… what the hell is all this about?” he finally asked, his voice tight with confusion and anger, sharp enough to cut through the cold morning air.

There was a hint of fury in the way he spoke.

The feeling I was getting from the whole scenario was that Lucian couldn’t even process why he was standing there, holding a drenched maid like me at this early hour.

And maybe, just maybe, that isn't the situation.

Who knows? Maybe he didn’t even know how to handle the situation at all.

Just by staring at how furrowed his brows had become, my hands started to sweat.

My legs trembled as I stepped closer, almost instinctively, trying to fix what had happened. I made a mess on his shirt when he grabbed me to steady me, so I wouldn’t fall. I’d accidentally wet his shirt as well.

So I started to apologise even before he noticed what I've just done to his clean, spotless, white shirt. “I… I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, my voice high-pitched, nervous, and unmistakably trembling.

As if that wasn't enough, I slowly reached out and started brushing the little droplets of water from Lucian’s shirt, my hands moving fast and unevenly.

The wetness of my own clothes made my hands slippery, and this made me to accidentally smeared some water onto his chest. As if that wasn't enough, I allowedy clumsy self to continue having more damages than there already was.

I gasped, embarrassed, biting my lip down as if I was gonna use my teeth to cut it off, “I… I didn’t mean… I—” I started to stammer, the words trailed off as I tried to stay composed, but my entire body was buzzing with panic.

My fingers lingered across his chest for a second too long, and the warmth of his skin made me freeze.

Then I tried to explain everything to him again, to make him understand that I didn't mean all of this—to apologize properly—but my voice kept failing me.

My throat was suddenly tight with tension, fear, and the cold water still chilling me

Lucian suddenly opened his mouth, obviously wanting to say something, maybe even yell.

I stared as His brows pulled together, and his jaw turned tight at once.

For a moment, he seemed like he was going to explode. But instead, he swallowed whatever he wanted to say, forcing his lips closed as his chest heaved just one last time.

It was though he suddenly had a second thought about saying whatever it was that he actually planned to say in the guest place.

His hands dropped slowly to his sides, still tense, still trembling slightly with fury, but he didn’t speak.

And without another word, he simply shoved me gently but firmly aside and walked past me down the stairs.

I stumbled back slightly, heart thudding in my chest, unsure what just happened or what I'd done wrong now.

The silence was heavy, filled with the sound of my own loud breath and the faint echo of Lucian's footsteps as he walked away from me.

Lucian had barely taken more than ten steps forward when he suddenly stopped as if he remembered something just immediately.

His shoulders stiffened, and he slowly turned back to face me where I was still ill standing, shivering from the cold.

His eyes were sharp, piercing, and dangerous. I almost slumped just from feeling them on me.

He didn't stare for too long before he finally spoke, “Why the hell are you this wet early in the morning?” His voice was low, controlled, but every word dripped with irritation and disbelief.

It was the kind of question that wasn’t really a question, but a scolding—like a judgment, or a warning all rolled into one.

My heart skipped several beats before it seemed to stop altogether. My mouth slowly opened to speak, but the words got stuck halfway in my throat.

Then I remained speechless.

How was I supposed to tell him his senior maid did this to me?

He would probably think I was trying to complain or cause trouble.

So I began to stammer. I couldn’t tell him the actual truth, and I hadn’t thought of a better lie to give.

While I was still trying to come up with something believable—some justification for the lie I planned to tell—just before I could form a coherent answer, another voice suddenly cut sharply through the tension.